


Creeping Silence

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [63]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Serious Injuries, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24416197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Loki gets badly hurt while on a mission and you must wait for him to wake up.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [63]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 9
Kudos: 217





	Creeping Silence

You were there when they came back.

Thor’s voicemail had been cryptic, the words strung together haphazardly and falling from his mouth as though in a frenzy to escape. It had been hard to understand, but you caught enough to know he wanted you there in the hangar.

As soon as the door opened, Thor came stumbling out. It took a moment for your brain to figure out what you were looking at, and you were halfway up the steps to help him before you realized he was carrying Loki’s lifeless body. Still, you reached out to steady him even as your throat started to close up. Maybe you choked out the word “medbay”, or maybe the both of you simply moved as one, your destination a foregone conclusion. 

As soon as the doctors saw the two—no, three—of you, they swarmed you, a flurry of hands and questions, and when they finally subsided, they’d taken Loki with them. Thor sat grim and silent beside you for a while, glaring at his hands, and then he’d snapped and turned to spill the story out to you, and then finally he’d risen out of his seat and stormed out of the waiting area. It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was going. He wanted revenge. He was going to find it.

After what felt like forever, one of the doctors came to retrieve you. She looked almost surprised to see you alone, but you just nodded at her to carry on with her explanation, and she did. He’d nearly died. He technically wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he was stable, at least for now. She let you follow her to his bed, told you to call her if anything changed, and left you there in the dead silence.

Even for Loki, he looked pale. You sat in a chair next to his bed and sort of just...stared at him. The doctor hadn’t gone into the details of his injuries, beyond explaining what they’d been able to repair, but he didn’t look well. You hated that he was so still. Loki was _never_ this still. His face was constantly animated, even if he did mostly just shoot you skeptical looks and eyerolls when the others were talking. It was like a challenge. Could you keep a straight face while Thor was detailing some great battle of his youth and Loki stood behind him, perfectly mouthing Thor’s words in time with the story? Could you keep it together when you were talking to Tony about some idea for a suit or a weapon or something and he started talking shop at you but Loki was smirking or pulling faces? Too often, you broke and had to hide a smile behind your hand or cover a giggle with a cough. Maybe you’d be a little more irritated at that if it weren’t for the way quiet pride would steal across his face at having gotten to you.

But he slept deeply now. Like the dead. You tried not to think it, but the harder you tried to ignore the phrase, the more it began to whirl around inside your brain. 

He wasn’t dead. You dug your metaphorical heels in at that and refused to budge. You’d heard Thor’s stories. You knew of all the times that Loki had cheated death in the past. Soon enough, this would just be another one of those stories. Hell, maybe it already was. You leaned in closer and touched his hand. “Hey.” Your voice was ragged. You cleared your throat and pressed on. “Loki. Thor’s not around right now. It’s just me. You don’t have to pretend.”

In your mind, you imagined the way he’d come back to life, the way his eyes would shoot open and sparkle at you with pride that you’d caught on to his plan. Maybe he’d sit up, then, and tell you all about what had actually happened out there. 

But nothing happened. He continued to lie there like a husk of himself. You swallowed hard and closed his hand between yours. He was so cold.

You stayed there for a long time. Others would check in here and there. Bruce would tell you to go get some rest. Wanda would beg you to eat something. Tony would drop by with an energy drink and an awkward hand on your shoulder. Thor remained...wherever he’d gone that first day. But you stayed there. Your brain had come to tell you that nothing worse could happen if you kept sitting right there with your eyes trained on his face. He couldn’t die if you were watching. So far, it had held true, after all, so you kept your vigil at his bedside.

After the silence grew too large, too loud, you started talking. You’d never been one to fear the quiet, but this one made you feel sick and cold. So you talked. You babbled on about nothing. About your childhood. About your days before this had all happened. On the third or fourth day of Loki’s straight, unnerving stillness, maybe you snapped, and started rambling about him. You spilled it all, told him how you’d felt when he’d first arrived, tall and stiff and clearly doing his best to hide his discomfort. You told him how quickly your heart had raced the first time you walked in on him sitting quietly in the living room. You were quick to tell him it was not fear, or at least not fear of him. You were afraid that, when you joined him, he’d give you a dirty look for interrupting his solitude and leave. You told him how your whole body had relaxed when he gave you a quick, appraising look, but then went back to his book. 

You rambled on about even the secret thoughts you had. Your face grew warm as you told him how you found it hard to drag your eyes away from him. Of course you liked looking at him. Who wouldn’t? His face was perfect, especially enhanced by the quiet wisdom that lit his features. Laughing sheepishly, you told him about a dream you’d had, in which the two of you were the only ones left in the Tower and you summoned the courage to try to kiss him, only to realize that he was just an illusion when he faded away. It wasn’t terribly difficult to guess the meaning of that one. 

You slipped away when someone came to check in on him, but never far. You tried to keep out of their way as they checked his vitals and recorded them on clipboards. After all, if you did something bad and Loki suffered as a result, you’d never forgive yourself. They usually explained the prognosis to you—that he was growing stronger every day, but things still weren’t certain. When they left, you explained it all to him, and followed that up with a bit of scolding, demanding that he wake up and get out of here and just be okay again.

Each time, without fail, you fell quiet for a while and then apologized for speaking to him like that.

Sometimes, for no discernible reason, your eyes stung and hot tears dripped down your cheeks. When that happened, you pulled away from him for a bit and took the time to berate yourself until you were back under control. Crying was stupid. If he was awake, he’d probably laugh at you for crying over him. It was presumptuous at best. The most interaction that the two of you had ever had was quiet conversations here and there, and the faces he made at you behind people’s backs. You were under no illusions about what you were to him, no matter what _he_ was to you. He’d made it abundantly clear, his first few weeks in the Tower, just how he felt about mortals. He didn’t say it to your face, of course, but you’d heard the way he spoke to the others, if indeed he deigned to speak at all, and you caught his whispered arguments with Thor here and then. So what if he looked at you with soft eyes sometimes? It was hardly his fault how your brain could romanticize all those little things and fall in love with him.

Your irritation with yourself was almost enough to win out over your fear of his condition worsening. There were a few times when you wanted to get up and leave, try to sleep lying down in bed instead of sitting up, but you never got quite irritated enough to do it. As much as you realized you were silly for thinking you had any influence whatsoever on what his body did and whether it continued to draw breath, you couldn’t shake it.

Thor reappeared on the fifth day. He looked like hell as he dragged another chair over to the other side of Loki’s bed. He’d clearly been in a fight—or multiple fights—going by the injuries he had. You wanted to ask if he’d taken care of whoever had done this to Loki, but you didn’t know how to ask without giving yourself away. He met your eyes once, and your heart stopped when you saw the rage that still hid inside them. He wasn’t angry at you, you told yourself. He was angry at the situation. He’d lowered his head in a quiet half-nod and then fixed his eyes on Loki’s face.

Soon it was Natasha’s turn to try to drag you away. Of course she made sure to remind you how long you’d been there, but you knew it was less for you and more for Thor. She wanted to get him on her side. That didn’t seem fair. Sure enough, his eyes went a little wider at the information, and he tried to order you out. They didn’t _get_ that you were _fine_. 

“The only reason I haven’t knocked you out and carried you out over my shoulder is that I like you,” she said flatly. “I bet Thor wouldn’t even need to knock you out.”

Your blood went cold when Thor rose from his seat. When he came around to your side of the bed, you stood up yourself, quickly enough to make your head spin for a moment, and tried backing away with your hands held out in front of you. “Please, I’m fine. It’s okay. I don’t want to leave. You wouldn’t want to leave, would you? Thor, _please_.”

He did pause. You ignored your racing heart as he took a moment to consider your words. Could you convince him as easily as that? But then he looked back at Natasha, who answered him with the slightest arch of one perfect eyebrow, and he continued to approach you. 

He was so fucking large. You couldn’t shake the sickening feeling that you were something like a rabbit cowering in the shadow of a wolf. It would be silly to try to tell them that your presence was the only thing keeping Loki stable, but it gnawed at your insides. When he’d backed you into a corner, almost pressed against the machines at the head of Loki’s bed, he stopped again. 

“My lady. If my brother knew what you were doing to yourself, he would be angry. He wouldn’t forgive me if I allowed it to go on.” He was trying to explain himself, but it didn’t help anything. You wanted to reply, wanted to tell him that Loki wouldn’t give a shit one way or the other, but maybe that just supported their side instead of your own. He stepped closer, positioning himself as though to sweep you up and into his arms. You wanted to crumple to the floor to keep from making it any easier for him, but your pride locked you in place. “Just for a little bit. Rest, and then you can come back. When I called you, I did not mean for you to be imprisoned here.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I can’t leave. Don’t make me leave.” You felt like a little kid, maybe begging to stay up an hour past her bedtime. 

But it didn’t help anything. Thor scooped you into his arms as easily as though you weighed nothing. You fought back harder than you truly wanted to, choking out your protests through your dry throat and pummeling his chest to make him put you down again. You _hated_ that you were making a scene like this, but you hated the thought of leaving more. “Put me down! I’m not leaving him!” You tried to squirm out of his arms, but they locked tightly around you and pinned you against him. You knew that Thor didn’t deserve any of this, but you dug your nails into exposed skin to try to hurt him and make him drop you. He only held you tighter. So you fought even harder. You fought with all of your anger, all of your discomfort and uncertainty and that sick feeling of having lost something that was never yours to begin with. You weren’t quite howling, thank the gods, but your voice was loud and shrill and nasty. In growing desperation as Thor stepped ever closer to the doorway, you cried out Loki’s name. You didn’t know why. If the insistences of your crazy brain were true, maybe you were begging him to stick around even when you weren’t there.

Nat’s face came to you in a flash over Thor’s shoulder. She was staring open-mouthed at the bed. The next time you saw her, she was looking in your direction, and called Thor back.

Your resistance died down when he turned to see what she was talking about. Partly, you were exhausted. But also, he was going back to the bed. Natasha raised an arm to point at Loki’s face, and Thor released you, let you slide down his body until your feet were back on solid ground. Loki was awake. His eyes were wide and, though he still looked so hazy and confused, his eyes did narrow when he saw the way his brother’s arms still rested around your body. 

He said your name. You pulled away from Thor and started to reach for Loki’s hand before you remembered yourself. Your eyes were stinging, but it felt a little less stupid to cry right now, so you didn’t try to hide them. “Hey, you’re awake. It took you long enough.”

“I heard you screaming.”

You opened your mouth to apologize for disturbing him, but then shut it again. You weren’t sorry. Hell, you’d be willing to spend the rest of your life screaming if it kept him from doing that again. After drawing in a shaky breath, you forced yourself to smile at him. He was already looking at you, brows furrowed as though he was trying to figure something out. It was hard to blame him. He’d been unconscious for five days, after all. “I’m really glad you’re awake.” That felt truer than maybe anything you’d ever said in your life.

“I was out for a long time.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. He nodded back. “And you...were talking. To me?”

You laughed self-consciously and nodded yet again, then raised your hands to rub your eyes and hide your face. Thor stepped in, finally, nudging you to the side so he could fill Loki in on what had happened in battle and what Thor had done to the attackers. You walked away, but only so you could round the foot of his bed and take your own seat again. You stepped cautiously past Natasha, who was watching you carefully. She said nothing, and did not move.

You looked back at Loki as you took your seat, and he was already watching you too. His eyes were fierce at first, but then elaxed a little when he saw you sit. Your heart thudded in your chest. It was silly to think that maybe he’d worried you were leaving, right? You pressed your lips together and tried not to listen to Thor’s story. The gore. You weren’t really in the correct state of mind for all of that right now. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed on Loki’s hand where it rested against the sheets. He was still so pale, but at least he was conscious. He spread his fingers wide, moved his hand closer to the edge of the bed. To you. You gave him a quick look and he raised his eyebrows at you.  
Following his unspoken request, you reached out to take his hand in yours again. And you didn’t let him go.


End file.
